


Second Rise

by sorrypapa



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: M/M, Other, before anyone asks NO rose did not bad touch bede im sorry to disappoint you, coulda been a flower shop. bakery better, he just got him involved in information smuggling, idk what you want from me, older man pining for college student, rose used to be a crime committer then got released n opened a bakery, there were no other rosehop fics and i needed to be the first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24491293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrypapa/pseuds/sorrypapa
Summary: "He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone be so beautiful without even trying."In which Rose pines for one of his regulars - a college student named Hop.
Relationships: Rose | Chairman Rose/Hop
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Second Rise

**Author's Note:**

> Hi my name is pepper and i'm a little bit of a monster and love rosehop more than anything on this god damn earth 8) well. jk i love my best friend toddy whom i dedicate this fic posting to.

_Slap! Slap!_   
  
“I think this is ridiculous-!”   
  
“I think you’re busy talking and not working,” Rose said easily, all without looking up from the tray of lobster tails he was egg washing. He didn’t need to - as long as he heard the dough being slapped against the table and kneaded, then Bede wouldn’t get an earful from him. That brioche needed to be in the resting rack in 30 minutes, and if the college boy could continue beating it at that rate, it’d be there in half the time. 

Bede scoffed at Rose’s words and with a hefty grunt, flipped the dough over, slapping it against the table once again. There was a frown stitched onto his face, and he grumbled under his breath about this and that, and the older man could do nothing but sigh and shake his head, a small smile on his face.   
  
The boy hasn’t changed much, truly. Besides getting taller, and wearing clothes that actually fit him, and… he had to admit, livelier. It’s been how many years? 10? Bede was 23 now, and he was… well, no one needed to be reminded of his age.   
  
Definitely wasn’t hitting 40. 

More grumbling.   
  
“Bede, you should be separating that dough by now.”   
  
“You should be separating from that hairstyle you cling to.” He snaps back, his bench scraper in his hand as he glares at Rose. The older gentleman raised an eyebrow in amusement before glancing over to Bede, and then at his hair. Well, the reflection of it from one of the pans hang drying not too far away from him - his hair was in a net. 

Not his best look, but he couldn’t let his hair get incorporated in the food, could he? 

“What are you so upset about this time?” You know, he’s usually pretty tame since Opal took him in, but the boy definitely had his moments of being aggravated still. This was a good job for him - he could take his frustration out on the dough and the mixing, all these things that require some sort of violent motion. Maybe Opal was onto something by sending him here to work.   
  
It’s been a few months, and while it was awkward at first, they strangely began to get along… somewhat. Rose was able to apologize for what he put Bede through, get to know him a little better. He couldn’t help but be pleased now at this point in his life, that the boy ended up getting into good hands.   
  
He calls Opal ‘nan’.   
  
Bede doesn’t look up from his work, quickly separating the mass into smaller portions before slapping them on a scale to make sure they’re proportionate with each other, with much more force than really needed.   
  
“Just another bloody day.” He mumbles, and Rose shrugs, setting down his pastry brush so he can pick up the tray and put it in the oven just in time for the timer to ring so he can take the other one out. He feels as though he’s gotten the timing down to a sixth sense.   
  
He can’t make Bede talk, and so he won’t. The younger man can at least appreciate that about Rose. 

Rose slid the trays of perfectly baked lobster tails on a cooling rack, the smell making him smile. It’s always cathartic to see hard work pay off, in the form of something crisp and delicious. Once they’ve cooled down, he can begin to fill them with the batch of sweetened whipped ricotta filling he made this morning and a few with a rich chocolate cream.

He’s not a big fan of chocolate. It’s too sweet, it’s too rich, it overpowers every other flavor of whatever it’s covering or inside of. A lobster tail should be appreciated wholly, its buttery layers savored, the lightly sweetened filling a delicious reward for doing so.   
Even dark chocolate is too powerful, chocolate in general. It’s too much, always.   
  
Rose looks at the clock again and hums to himself before tugging over an already cooled tray of lobster tails out, and readies his piping bag by spooning in the thick chocolate filling, and gets to work. He only fills 3 of them before pausing, setting the piping bag aside so he can rush about and look for the box he had put out. Where was it, where did he - ah! He grabs it from the lower shelf of the table he’d been working at and gingerly places the pastries inside along the croissant he’d made not too long ago. 

He places the lid over the box, just as Oleana peeks her head in.   
  
“Sir, he’s here.”   
  
“Excellent. Oleana, could you..?” He motions to the rest of the lobster tails that haven’t been filled, and she immediately nods and goes to wash her hands to finish the job for him. He can hear Bede snort from where he is.   
  
“Careful Rose, your thorns are shriveling.”   
  
“You have dough to laminate.”   
  
Bede tilts his head back and groans overdramatically before sulking off to grab what he needed.

Rose gave a saccharine smile to Bede before rolling his eyes. That boy’s mouth, he swears… He pulls off the hairnet and tosses it in the trash, and then washes his own hands, looking in the small mirror in place to make sure his hair is alright. Of course, it is. He also checks his teeth before drying his hands off in record time, grabbing the box of pastries, and heading out to the front. 

There he was, just like Oleana had said. His dark indigo hair with that striking yellow headband that pushed his bangs out of his gorgeous golden eyes that always seemed to pierce him, to look straight through him, see everything he is and _was._ His skin is dark, with the faintest smattering of freckles dancing on his cheeks, his brows thick and arched… 

Hop. 

He was standing idly, leaning on his cane as he scrolled through his phone. The coffee he brought was sitting on the counter since he only had so many hands. It always amused him that he never just ordered coffee from here when he got his order, and he always offers, but Hop always declines and never says why. Then again, Rose never asks, either.  
  
Rose clears his throat, causing those golden eyes to peer from over his glasses and at him. He swears, his heart skips a beat, but he’s always been good at saving face. Keeping it professional, never letting anyone know what really lies underneath the cool expression he wears. He supposes it’s always been easier that way. 

“On time, as always.”  
  
Hop hums in response at first, before sliding his phone back in his coat pocket and digging in his pants pocket to grab his wallet. “Am I getting that predictable?” He asks, a small smile tugging at his lips. Rose wishes more than anything he’d see a huge one plastered on him. He’s got the dimples - he must have used to do it all the time. He wonders what happened to it. 

Either way, Rose chuckles and sets the box aside as he steps up to the register. “How else will I keep customer loyalty, unless I notice the little things?”   
  
“Oh, _haha_ , and here I thought I was special,” Hop says in jest, sliding his debit card out from his wallet to hand it over to the older man. Rose laughs again in response to Hop’s remark, and swipes the card quickly. He taps the screen of his register a few times before pausing, looking over at him with knowing eyes and a smirk.

“Can’t interest you in some of _my_ coffee this time?” Hop rolls his eyes and shakes his head, though the half-smile is still on his face. Rose shrugged and gave his best customer-service smile as he printed off the receipt, and handed it to him. “Never hurts to ask, right?” The younger man always did the same thing, crumpling it up and shoving it in his jacket pocket to throw away later.   
  
He’ll have to throw him for a loop sometime, and opt-out of the receipt. Save a few trees, hmm? 

Now he picks up the box that he lovingly crafted for him. Usually, he orders the croissant, and one of the many arrays of chocolate sweets or pastries he has to offer, but Rose wanted to make his fondness known and gave him a few extras. He himself loved lobster tails, _regular_ ones, but Hop’s had a chocolatey twist. Even if in his head, it’s sacrilegious. 

Hop takes the box and sets it down on the counter so he can balance his coffee cup on top of it. Before he leaves to sit down at a table though, he glances back over at Rose, his own ghost of a smirk on his face.   
  
“I didn’t even tell you my order. What if I wanted something different?” He asks, a playful edge to his tone. Green meets gold. Rose smiles at him again, this time more genuinely. 

“Did you?”   
  
“I’ll never tell.” Hop answers and Rose crosses his arms as he shakes his head while he watches Hop perform his usual balancing act from the counter to his favorite table. It’s close to an outlet, and the window. Oftentimes he’ll peek at Hop and find him not even looking at the laptop he has set up in front of him and will instead be gazing outside quietly, sipping at his coffee or pulling apart his croissant a piece at a time and stuffing it in his mouth. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone be so beautiful without even trying. The limp in his step is secondary to everything else he sees. 

Rose steps out of sight, but still can’t help but be around to steal glances at Hop as he settles and finally opens the pastry box. There’s a look of surprise on his face at the extra goodies, and he reaches inside to take out one of the lobster tails. Hop inspects it and looks around at the counter to see if Rose was there or not, but when he didn’t see him he looked back at the pastry at hand. 

Ever the strange person he was, Hop breaks it in half, the chocolate oozing out slow enough to where it won’t spill everywhere. He sets half of it down on a napkin and smells it before taking a big bite. Hop chews slowly, and Rose anxiously waits, desperate for any kind of reaction. Does he love it? Hate it? Indifferent?   
  
“...” A smile breaks out on Hop’s face. Big, genuine, _bright._ Rose’s heart skips a beat.

He finds that he rather likes chocolate.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for taking time to read this super self indulgent fic. ngl i have a lot more ideas for this to be longer and whatnot but considering this is the first fic in the rose/hop tag on ao3 i'm not sure if anyone would read it?? If you guys would want more just comment down below or hit me up on my twitter @sorrypapa1 !!


End file.
